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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28888230">Simple as a Glass of Chocolate</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrillingDetectiveTales/pseuds/ThrillingDetectiveTales'>ThrillingDetectiveTales</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Band of Brothers (TV 2001)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Food Sex, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:46:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28888230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrillingDetectiveTales/pseuds/ThrillingDetectiveTales</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“It was supposed to be syrup,” Johnny muttered darkly. “Says right there on the can!”</p><p>“Reckon it started out that way,” Bull shrugged, biting his lip against a smile when Johnny narrowed a glare over his shoulder.</p><p>(In which Johnny and Bull try to sweeten up their sex life and it doesn't go exactly as planned.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Johnny Martin/Bull Randleman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Loose Lips Sink Ships Prompt Meme</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Simple as a Glass of Chocolate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you to Muccamukk for the quick beta on this. You were correct in all your suggestions, and any remaining mistakes are mine.</p><p>Written for the Loose Lips Sink Ships prompt: "Messy sex involving a lot of chocolate sauce," which I took from a comedy approach, because that's the only way I know how to relate to anything anymore.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>“Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.”<br/>
- Vianne Rocher, Chocolat</em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p>“You know,” Bull said, holding his hands carefully out at either side of him where he stood in the middle of the room, patiently awaiting his turn to wash up, “when you asked if I wanted to come ‘round your billet for dessert, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”</p><p>His fingers were sticky, arms coated all the way up to the elbows with uneven smudges of chocolate. They itched around the edges where they were starting to dry. Bull flexed his fingers and watched as a little flurry of flakes crumbled away off the side of his hand.</p><p>Johnny cut him a sharp glower from across the room. He was posted up in front of a short, dark wood bureau, naked as a jaybird and dipping a nubby hand towel into a little ceramic washbasin. The water had a faint brown tinge to it and the towel was half-soaked through with a rusty stain. Johnny wrung it out with prejudice, heaved a sigh, and daubed gingerly at the mess between his legs — chocolate, all gnarled through the hair trailing down from his belly and smeared over his softening cock and his pale thighs.</p><p>“It was supposed to be syrup,” he muttered darkly. “Says right there on the can!”</p><p>“Reckon it started out that way,” Bull shrugged, biting his lip against a smile when Johnny narrowed a glare over his shoulder.</p><p>Johnny dabbed ineffectually at the mess all over his abdomen for another few seconds before he threw the towel against the dresser with a wet splat and heaved a deep, furious groan toward the ceiling. He turned on his heel and stalked a few steps over toward the bed, where they had at least had the good sense to lay a couple of towels out before they started in on the whole sordid business. The floorboards creaked under his bare feet as he stopped, wheeled around, and paced back the other way.</p><p>He reached up to run a hand through his hair, freezing at the last second as he remembered that his hands were just as much a mess as the rest of him. He made a small, strangled sound of frustration in the back of his throat, fingers spasming, and then dropped his arms down to his sides. With a short, dejected shake of his head, he gestured Bull toward the bureau.</p><p>“Might as well get yourself washed up and head on back. I’m gonna spend the rest of the night scrubbin’ this shit off.”</p><p>Something in Bull’s chest pulled taut at the picture Johnny made, bristling in the middle of the room in his altogether with several sundaes’ worth of chocolate syrup smeared in tacky, half-dried swirls over the better part of his body. There was a dark smudge along the blade of his jaw that Bull wouldn’t have minded ducking in to taste, if he didn’t think Johnny would just as soon pop him one as kiss him, with the mood he was in.</p><p>“Johnny - ” he sighed, starting forward, but Johnny cut him off with a raised hand and a sharp tilt of his chin.</p><p>“No,” he muttered hotly. “Don’t you start with that soft-eyed sweetheart shit. We both know there ain’t nothin’ to salvage on this one. Let’s just - just write it off as a disaster and never speak of it again, all right?”</p><p>“Alright,” Bull ducked his head in a nod. “If that’s how you want it.”</p><p>“That’s how I want it.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Okay. Good.”</p><p>Bull ambled over to the washbasin, retrieving the towel where Johnny had flung it in his fit of pique and dipping it into the bowl. He scrubbed it against itself under the surface of the cloudy water, working out the worst of the deposits on the fraying surface, and wrung it as dry as he could manage. Then he set it aside, dipped his hands into the basin, and subjected them to the same process. When he was finished, he ducked his head over the bowl, bringing water up in his cupped palms to meet it. Face damp, he took up the towel again and wiped from his nose to his collar as best as he could manage with no mirror to guide his hand.</p><p>“How do I look?” he asked, turning when he was finished to peer over his shoulder at Johnny, who was standing contrapposto in the middle of the room with his arms folded over his belly, face impassive and beautiful as a marble statue.</p><p>Johnny’s expression softened as he dragged his gaze across Bull’s face, mouth curling at the corners. “Good,” he said, low and a little hoarse. “You look good.” He glanced down his own frame, gesturing with a hand, and snorted bitterly, “Better than me, anyway.”</p><p>Bull hummed and nodded, dunking the towel in the little basin once again. He swirled it around a few times, until it was as clean as it was getting, and only wrung it half-way to dry. Towel firmly in hand and leaking thin rivulets through his fingers, he turned and advanced on Johnny, who frowned at him in confusion.</p><p>“Now wait just a minute, there, Bull,” Johnny said, holding up a hand and stumbling backwards until he ran into the mattress behind him. “What do you think you’re doing?”</p><p>Bull didn’t answer, just tilted his chin toward the bed and instructed, “Sit down.”</p><p>“What - ” Johnny started, blustering, though he sank down obediently when Bull put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle, guiding shove.</p><p>“Thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” Bull commented.</p><p>Johnny scowled up at him. “I don’t.”</p><p>“Well then,” Bull drawled, dropping down to one knee, and then the other, so he was kneeling between Johnny’s legs, “shut up and let me do this, would you?”</p><p>Johnny’s mouth snapped shut, eyes widening in tandem with his legs as he let them splay to better accommodate Bull’s not inconsiderable bulk.</p><p>Bull curled one hand over Johnny’s thigh, making a point not to notice the way the muscle clenched under his fingers, or the soft little breath that Johnny sucked through his teeth at the contact. He held it firm and brought the towel up to rub it in small, careful circles through the chocolate smeared over Johnny’s skin. He was so soft here, and so much paler than the rest of his sun-browned complexion. Bull had more than half a mind to lean in and suck a mark into the welcoming expanse, staking his claim on the unblemished territory, but he admonished himself to behave. There would be plenty of time to indulge those impulses later.</p><p>“Bull,” Johnny said, high and helpless. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it ain’t gonna - ”</p><p>Bull shushed him without looking up, scrubbing up toward the seam where Johnny’s thigh met his hip. He smirked to himself, gratified, when he saw Johnny’s cock twitch out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>After a few minutes of steady attention, Johnny’s right leg was mostly clean. He was dotted with stray chocolate granules here and there where the sauce had pilled and stuck to his damp skin, but it was miles better than the mess he’d been making of himself not long before. Bull dropped an affectionate squeeze just over his knee and turned to assess his other leg.</p><p>He scrubbed that one up, too, and then pressed the cool cloth to the chocolate-streaked plane of Johnny’s belly, one hand curled around his hip to keep him from popping up off the bed in an uncharacteristic fit of self-consciousness.</p><p>“Bull,” Johnny tried again, voice weak, and rested a loose hand over the curve of Bull’s shoulder, “you don’t gotta - ”</p><p>“Find you somethin’ better to do with that mouth if keepin' it shut is provin' to be too much of a hardship,” Bull warned mildly, not bothering to look up from where he was wiping at the trail of hair drifting down from Johnny’s navel. </p><p>Johnny was a little more than half-hard by now, cock thickening and flushing darker with every careful swipe of the washrag against his skin. The corner of the cloth dragged over the root of his cock and he shuddered underneath Bull’s hands, gooseflesh prickling in a wave all across his abdomen and pebbling his thighs as he sucked a soft breath through his teeth.</p><p>Bull kept at his task for another fifteen minutes or so, savoring every twitch of muscle and tiny, bitten-off sound Johnny tried to choke back before it leaked into the open air. When Johnny was mostly clean — barring a peppering of chocolate that would require warm water to properly remove — Bull balled the washcloth, now darkened to a dusky umber, in his fist and considered Johnny’s cock, lifting pink and perky between his thighs.</p><p>He flicked a glance up to Johnny’s face, smirking at the glassy heat in his gaze, and shook the rag back out. He laid it flat across his palm, draping a little way down his wrist, and then reached out and wrapped his hand around Johnny’s dick. </p><p>“Jesus!” Johnny yelped at the temperature and tucked his lower lip under his teeth. He had one hand fisted in the comforter, the other a half-pound of pressure from digging bruises into the meat of Bull’s trapezius.</p><p>“Problem?” Bull asked, pumping his hand in a loose, shallow stroke so the red head of Johnny’s dick peeked out from the terrycloth.</p><p>Johnny sighed a jittery breath and shook his head. “No,” he croaked. “Little cold, s’all.”</p><p>Bull hummed, thoughtful. “Reckon I can help with that.”</p><p>He didn’t give Johnny a chance to respond before he lowered his head and wrapped his mouth around what little of Johnny’s cock wasn’t tucked into the protective curl of his fist. The washrag was cool verging on cold when his lips brushed it, and the sweet, musty smell of diluted chocolate was strange on top of the familiar musk of Johnny’s need. Bull didn’t think he would ever prefer the unexpected richness of cocoa to be mixed in with the salted heat of blood-flushed skin, but he was happy enough to tongue at the glans and swirl up over the tip so Johnny’s belly spasms and his thighs shook.</p><p>“Fuck, Bull,” Johnny whimpered up above him. He slid his hand over Bull’s shoulder and up into his hair. It was too short to grab a proper hold of, trimmed upon their recent arrival back to Mourmelon, but Bull liked the way it made his scalp tingle when Johnny pushed his fingers through the shorn curls. He moaned when Johnny’s thumb found the notch just under his ear and twisted his wrist to pull a similar sound up from the depths of Johnny’s chest.</p><p>Johnny traced around the shell of his ear with a shivering finger and whined Bull’s name when Bull lapped at the head of his dick and pressed his tongue hard against the slit in retaliation. Johnny’s knees swiveled inward to bump against Bill’s ribs as his body clenched, and he forced them back out with an open-mouthed gasp, lips wet and bitten pink.</p><p>Satisfied that he had retained the upper hand, Bull pushed down onto Johnny’s cock until it bumped the back of his throat, and then pulled back off it again. And again, and again, bobbing and sucking and sliding his tongue around the smooth, hot length until the washrag was warm in his hand and he could taste the sudden, warning tang that preceded Johnny’s spend, thick in his mouth.</p><p>“Bull,” Johnny moaned obligingly, giving Bull’s hair a weak, ineffective tug. “Bull, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna - I’m - ”</p><p>Bull shuffled forward on his knees, guiding Johnny’s dick as deep as he could manage without choking himself, while Johnny dissolved into incoherency. He started to buck his hips as he came, babbling Bull’s name, interspersed with the occasional, ‘oh’ and ‘fuck.’ Bull caught him with an arm across his belly and held him in place, until he slumped back onto his elbow, chest heaving and body quivering with aftershocks.</p><p>Bull pulled off neatly and gave Johnny’s cock, still hard, another quick, gentle once-over with the cloth to catch what little spend he hadn’t swallowed. Johnny hissed and collapsed all the way down onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. His other hand was still curled loosely over the crown of Bull’s head, and he petted absently at Bull’s temple and nudged his knee against Bull’s side while Bull gave him another once-over.</p><p>There was still a little bit of chocolate streaked along the shaft of Johnny’s cock, and likely more that had dribbled back toward his balls, but Bull figured that’d keep well enough until morning, when Johnny could sneak a shower. He wiped his mouth with the cloth and tossed it over his shoulder, in the direction of the bureau, and pushed up to flop next to Johnny on the bed. He was hard in his shorts, but it was a distant sort of desire that didn’t require immediate tending. Not at the expense of Johnny’s afterglow, anyway.</p><p>As soon as Bull was laid out flat, Johnny flung his free arm out across Bull’s abdomen, easy and possessive. Bull caught his hand and guided it up to rest against his chest, grinning when Johnny wiggled until he managed to entwine their fingers together. Bull ducked his chin to kiss Johnny’s knuckles and let their joined hands rest against his sternum, closing his eyes and basking in the rhythm of Johnny’s breath as it steadied and slowed.</p><p>He waited until Johnny had opened his eyes and was looking over, hazy and satiated, to drawl, “Won’t be winnin’ any ribbons at the county fair anytime soon, but I reckon that might just beat out ma’s peach cobbler for my favorite dessert. Need another taste or two to be sure.”</p><p>Johnny snorted and rolled his eyes, raising their joined hands just high enough to let them smack back down against Bull’s chest in reprimand, though he didn’t let go.</p><p>“I’ll do it up proper next time,” Johnny smirked. “Peanuts, sprinkles, whipped cream. The works.”</p><p>“Throw a cherry on top and we’re in business,” Bull agreed, laughing when Johnny groaned and rolled over to kiss him.</p><p>He slung an arm around Johnny’s waist, hauling him in close, and curled his other hand tenderly over the back of Johnny’s head. Johnny’s mouth was warm and wet and soft, and Bull moaned into the sweet give of it under his own. Johnny swung a thigh over his hip, shifting over until he was straddling Bull, with a hand against the comforter on either side of his head.</p><p>“You know,” Johnny murmured, thin and breathless, as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Bull’s mouth, his cheek, his jaw, “I think you got a little chocolate, still. Just here.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Bull croaked.</p><p>Johnny hummed his confirmation against the tendon in Bull’s throat, tongue darting out to chase the vibration as it shivered through Bull’s skin.</p><p>“And here,” Johnny said.</p><p>Bull huffed a laugh. “Missed quite a bit of it, didn’t I?”</p><p>“Hard not to, without a mirror,” Johnny assured him. He slipped Bull’s suspenders off his shoulders and pushed his undershirt up until it bunched under his armpits, “Tell you what, I think we’d better check everywhere, just in case.”</p><p>“Best to be thorough,” Bull agreed, and laid back to bask in Johnny’s attention while he made good on his promise.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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